Protected By Her Controlling Boss

Chapter 8

Angela could hardly believe a week had gone by since moving to Houston. Her new colleagues welcomed her as the office manager, and she felt things were going well. Janice hadn't called once after the move, but neither had the rest of her family. It felt strange not to worry about money, but it was peaceful. The only thing gnawing away at her was Jameson's attitude.

His actions towards her could be described as cold at best. The truth was that she was lonely in this new city. There were millions of people, but making new friends as an adult felt embarrassing. Krista was too busy to chat. She got the HR job she had applied for months back and was embroiled in a crisis involving HR, PR, and a cow. Why there was a cow, Krista didn't explain, and Angela refused to ask. Some things were better left unknown. With no one else to talk to, Angela decided to text Blake. It was Friday night, and she had nothing to do, so she figured, why not? He was cute in an innocent kind of way, clearly barely twenty-one.

"Hey, Blake. Plans tonight?" She fiddled with her phone, tracing a path around her living room aimlessly. While waiting, she took in the décor; Jameson really understood her. Everything was soft and pleasant to look at. He had chosen calming shades of blush and a stony blue to decorate with. The space was utterly devoid of loud colors like oranges or yellows. Angela didn't dislike them but preferred them in their natural shades; they couldn't be satisfactorily replicated for her. She was still in awe that he had gone so far as to unpack everything for her when the moving pod arrived. All Angela needed to do was put away her clothes and start her new life. After checking her phone for the umpteenth time, she finally had an answer from Blake.

"Nothing much, cutie. You? If you're free tonight, why don't I take you somewhere? I can't stay out too late since I'm supposed to leave for Beaumont early in the morning, but dinner and drinks shouldn't be too much. Are ya down?" Angela could admire his carefree demeanor. Over the past few days, she had learned Blake was an only child and had started working during high school to take care of his mom when she was diagnosed with Huntington's disease. He didn't have an easy life but was content with what he had.

"Dinner sounds perfect. I can eat anything but have been repeatedly told to try true 'Tex-Mex' by my coworkers." She giggled as her fingers slid around the keyboard. Her new coworker, Gabby, had been going on and on about several different places Angela needed to try. After a while, it had been easiest to keep a running list in her office so people could come in and add locations without interrupting her work. This served the dual purpose of getting people used to seeing her in the office.

"I want to take you out for tacos. Conventional wisdom states I should take you to a place like Velvet Taco or Torchy's. I promise you'll enjoy it if you're willing to venture off the beaten path." Angela hesitated, not knowing what those places were or where he would take her, but loneliness can drive someone to do absurd things.

"Okay, show me what you got." She had to stop herself from adding 'kid' to the end of her sentence. They were five years apart, but the difference in where their lives were was vast. Honestly, Angela doubted there'd be anything between them. Still, it was fun getting to know someone new.

Her phone rang at 7 on the dot, meaning Blake had arrived. He parked his F-150 in the driveway and made an event of Angela showing him around her apartment. He was in awe of the place, just like she was the day she moved in. A strange sensation wove through her midsection. She remembered how excited Jameson had been for her to see the house, but he wasn't strictly speaking to her now. She forced herself to stop thinking about the situation with Jameson. Angela and Blake were standing in the driveway discussing the best time to water the lawn, dawn or dusk she had learned, when the gate opened to Jameson's surprised face.

"Um, Angela?" Blake had a puzzled look on his face. "Why is your friend here? I thought y'all weren't together." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; he was either young or dumb or both.

"You just saw my place. No one else could fit. He lives in the main house and is the homeowner, and, " she hesitated after realizing what she was about to say, "boss."

"You live with your boss?" Blake twisted his wrist, showing off a faded nautical star tattoo, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, not technically; I have private access to my place. He can't enter my apartment without permission. Things are complicated, but I promise you, Blake, we are not together." Jameson had gotten out of the car just in time to hear the end of Angela's sentence. He slammed the door and walked into the house without acknowledging either of them. "He must be in a bad mood; we should go," Angela gestured toward Blake's truck.

The night with Blake was fun. He took her to a no-name taco truck that served precisely three types of tacos and two kinds of beer. "It's all you need," Blake had excitedly explained. They sat outside on the rickety benches to enjoy their dinner. After drinking a beer, Blake said he was done with alcohol for the night and grabbed some water from his truck. Angela had learned that he was, in fact, only 21, but he seemed responsible enough to know when to quit. They laughed and told jokes back and forth as the sunset and cicadas began their evening symphony.

"We should get to gettin'. I have to go out of town for work tomorrow after all." Blake threw their trash away and then helped her off the bench. Once he saw her safely buckled in, he closed her door and walked to the driver's side.

"Ah, the air condition feels so good after sitting outside so long. How does everyone handle this heat?" Angela fanned herself while looking at Blake.

He chuckled before responding, "We don't; we just put up with it." He handed her a package of travel tissues from inside his door. He glanced at her bewildered face before focusing back on the road. "Oh! Right, you're new here. I might not be the one you want to hear this from, but girls grow up knowing to invest in a good waterproof mascara here." He snickered a little as Angela hurriedly pulled down the visor to look in the mirror. Her mascara was smudged under one eye from where she had wiped off a bit of sweat.

"Oh my goodness, I can't believe you let me sit there all night looking like this!" She playfully slapped his arm before tearing a sheet from the package and cleaning herself up.

"Nah, it wasn't all night. Plus," he turned to her with a brilliant smile, "you looked cute either way." Angela blushed but let him hold her hand the entire way home. Angela still felt shy when he insisted on walking her to her door. However, a motion-based security light flared on before he could kiss her, ruining the moment. Jameson walked out of the shadows with a stern look on his face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two," he said gruffly. Angela's heart rate increased when she heard him and saw the outrage in his eyes. "I was just pulling the recycling bins out of sight. I forgot to do so this afternoon." He didn't say another word and walked off toward the entrance to the main house. Blake and Angela blinked and chortled awkwardly at one another.

Blake rubbed the back of his head and avoided eye contact with her. He cleared his throat, "Yes, well, I guess the moment's ruined." He pulled her hand to his lips for a sweet kiss. "I'll let you know when I'm back in town," he reminded her. "The job should take about four days." Angela nodded and said good night. After she let herself in the house and set her purse and keys down on the kitchen counter, she grabbed some water.

"They are not joking about how hot it is here," she thought as she chugged the glass. The house was so quiet she could hear the gate let Blake out onto the road. "That's odd," she mused. "It took him more time than it should have to leave." She just shrugged it off, thinking he must have been sending a text or something first. Angela set the house alarm, then went upstairs to wash her face and go to bed. After getting under the covers, she checked her phone; no messages. She sighed, again feeling lonesome.